Ezekiel
by Uecaeli
Summary: "What goes around, comes around." Karma really does have a way of showing up in the most bizarre of places. Sometimes when it's needed, sometimes when it could have done better keeping its distance. • AU season 10, in no way will this story correspond with the television plot at any time. • Rated for adult situations, gore, and angel tears.


It is March 18th of 2014.

It is a normal day, a glorious day with the sun shining and not a speck of rain in sight. The neighborhood is waking up with all of those friendly neighborhood smells, fresh cut grass and dusky house paint. Sasha Tyball too is rousing from the nights grasp, slipping and sliding beneath My Little Pony covers recently bequeathed to her by her best friend, Jenna. _Poor Jenna_- she thinks tiredly upon throwing back the colorful blanket. Normalcy had suddenly become mundane and boring, what with Jenna gone, snatched away by a drunk driver on the night of their junior prom, Sasha bit her lip.

The memory was still fresh and she couldn't get over the sight of her best friend smeared across the road.

What kind of fate did that to people? The kind she wanted no part of obviously.

"Sasha baby are you awake?" she flipped her head over and grunted before the door is opened anyway, allowing her petite momma to slip in with last nights dress still clinging to her hips. "Hey baby, just seein' if you were awake,"

Momma was beautiful and Sasha couldn't help but admire her, albeit groggily, from under the sheets as the woman settled down at her side.

"How are you feeling baby," running chunky momma fingers through her thin brown hair.

"M'fine,"

"Rick is making eggs downstairs, you want some bacon too?"

Oh yeah, Rick. Sasha frowns and draws the crinkly sheets over her mouth to hide it, to no avail. She didn't really care for Rick much, he was no substitute for daddy and it was irritating that he kept trying to be. Even more so that momma kept letting him.

"Yeah." She knew that momma saw, momma knew how she felt and ignored it anyway.

"Don't rush yourself okay? It'll be waiting for you whenever you're ready." she gets up and heads to the door "Don't force it Sasha, it's okay, take your time!" and she shuts it. Sasha already misses the warmth of her body before flipping over and curling up into the mattress.

• • • •

Momma said she could stay home if she wanted. But after seeing your momma's boyfriends underwear on the back of the couch, that was enough to drive anyone to school. It was okay in the end, there was a substitute and he didn't seem to mind that Sasha was late. That meant he was part-way likable.

School was never Sasha's brightest subject, especially the art classes that momma insisted she take. Not one bone in her body was carved out with artistic talent. At least it was relatively easy and momma kept the results on the fridge, or up in the hallway so family could laugh at them. Today in art class was another substitute all it took was a mere five minutes for everyone to realize that he too, had no idea what he was doing. Scruffy good looks wasn't enough for this group of wiley teens and twenty minutes later he'd given up on pencils and taken up a book.

"What do you know about Greek mythology?" he began, fixing the entire class with one of _those_ looks.

Whatever it was.

"Well I know this ain't literature," intoned a girl from the back, a well known trouble-maker by the name of Rebekkah. If there was a good looking teacher involved she was never too far away with her silver-tongue ready to wag.

"I understand that-" he began "so what does Greek mythology have to do with focal points?"

A few of her colleagues chuckled and it started a chain reaction of equally stupid questions. From his face it seemed to be overwhelming the poor man that only a few minutes ago had been so in control. Now he looked more like a fish out of water, trying to defend himself but unable to get a word in otherwise.

"Are you actually a teacher?"

"Is that supposed to be a dog, because it looks like a stick-horse-"

"What's that book? And what's up with all the weird wiccan jumbo on the front?"

"Maybe it's his spellbook!"

Sasha couldn't help sniggering a few times herself, the poor guy looked so out of sorts and unprepared for the onslaught of rude curiosity. It really looked like he'd never stepped foot in a classroom before, having no clue how to handle the situation. What a perfect opportunity for everyone to waste time and get a few giggles in at once.

Of course they couldn't just do it among themselves, it always had to be at someone else's expense. At least where Rebekkah was involved, a famous bully and even worse insubordinate. She loved rubbing her parents money in everybody's faces and none of the staff would ever really tell her 'no'. It was such a cliche locality that Sasha couldn't believe it sometimes, like stepping out of a fairytale and adding high school decoration to the scenario.

"That is _enough_. Be silent!" all at once everyone hushed and Rebekkah gave the man a scalding look, like she expected him to apologize.

"Well then _teach_ us something teacher! This is art class not pagan religion!"

"I understand that and I'm sorry, but this is important also-"

"No I don't think you get it, nobody cares about your book dude, why don't you draw something?"

"I-" his face said he wanted to say something but his brain seemed to be having troubles getting it out. He fumbled with the book in his hands before opening it to a page, apparently the exact page that he needed for there was no searching necessary. Did he even know _how_ to draw? She wondered.

"I must ask forgiveness but this truly is important," he skimmed the page without looking up and in that time frame Rebekkah had gathered a corner of her drawing paper, crumpled it into a ball, and thrown it at him. Sasha winced and lowered her head to the desk, peeking over her elbows.

"You know I don't think you can draw." she smarted off. "In fact I don't think you're even a real teacher."

He tore his eyes away from the book and they were so intense, so _blue_ and so bright that Sasha had to look away. It was creepy how… big they seemed. It didn't seem to phase Rebekkah though as she continued to throw another paper ball at him, letting it bounce harmlessly off his shoulder. The guy gave a sweep over the classroom as though expecting somebody to come forward to his defense, or at least say something. But this was only day one, this was common occurrence and it was clearly disappointing the man to find that nobody really cared.

I mean what did he expect? Obedient teenagers? What a laugh!

Sasha wasn't sure whether to pity him or, well… pity him. He was obviously light years outside his comfort zone.

"You have no respect for teachers?" he asked, a genuine question.

Rebekkah hesitated before reaching back to play with her pony tail, "Well duh, why should I? They don't respect me."

"How would you know if you don't offer the chance for them to show it?"

"There is no such thing as a respectful teacher, they're all egotistical morons, but that's not the point." she twisted her hands and the tightening of her hair was almost audible in the silence that followed.

"The point is that I don't think you're a real teacher, and if you are? You must be retarded."

The man cocked his head and thought about it, confused. "I'm not a moron." he replied, with just a hint of indignance.

"Please, you totally are."

"You do not even know me?"

"I don't have too!" Rebekkah laughed.

"Rebekkah come on, class is almost over leave him alone."

You could hear a number of gasps and choked breaths as Peter the Great finally took a stand and grumbled irritably. Peter Munn was the only senior in the class and probably the best artist in the whole school, in Sasha's opinion. He was handsome, on the football team, _and_ he could draw like nobody's business. "All the right qualities for a husband!" momma once said, Sasha shuddered at the memory. It also so happened that he got really good grades and held just as much influence if not more than Rebekkah, which drove her crazy more often than not.

It's a known fact that both of their families were well endowed but Peter wasn't your typical Rebekkah, he was very reserved and easily aggravated over small things. You'd never know it though, just like you wouldn't have known he was ready to pop her head off as long as it kept her quiet. He was the only one bold enough to stand up to her and the only one that she would probably ever acquiesce to, albeit as loudly and rudely as possible.

It came as a surprise to our teacher because he directed that fierce gaze onto Peter and even he couldn't suppress a shudder of discomfort. Meaning I wasn't the only one. Maybe that's why Rebekkah was attacking him so harshly, she was uncomfortable and he scared her. Sasha couldn't deny that the man upfront was intimidating, even though his stature was less than convincing.

Like one of those people that you bumped into and you feel like you're drowning in their very presence kind of feelings. Except this guy had enough gusto to drown the entire building, Sasha was sure.

"Shut up Peter!" Rebekkah snarked, flipping him the bird and making the senior frown.

"Jesus Christ Rebekkah get the fuck over it, shut up, and sit down!" because it was fast becoming obvious that Rebekkah was unwilling to relent on this particular fight. So Peter thought _nip it in the bud_- to which there was no right or wrong answer.

"I would ask that you not use the Lords name in vain," the teacher spoke, at last, and it felt like a deep breath just sort of… filled the room.

This naturally drew all attention back to him and suddenly he looked afflicted once more. But Sasha wasn't sure if it was the fighting or something else now, because that expression was different, altered from his earlier ones. Sasha knew that face, internal conflict.

Somehow nobody rose to correct him, even Rebekkah stayed quiet and it felt like time had simply stopped. Although everyone kept breathing obviously, it got really tense and kind of hot as the teacher returned to searching his book. Apparently he'd decided that he'd wasted enough time listening to cruel students and closed in on himself. It certainly looked like it.

In lieu of the teacher holing up in his book it was glaringly evident that there wasn't going to be any proper class today, thus leaving the remaining twenty minutes open for interpretation. Rebekkah put as much distance between she, Peter, and the teacher as possible, the other students separated into their appropriate cliques and chattered.

It was almost kind of peaceful, that familiar noise that could lull someone into sleep if they had a mind to. Sasha almost did, finding an abundance of ease as gentle noise swelled up and around her, insisting softly that she just take a nap. She wanted too, she really did, but with that teacher up there, with his feet on the desk and nose in that book; she just couldn't. Like an itch just under her shoulder blade where she couldn't get it, irritating and obstinate.

Those minutes flew by and there was a palpable flood of relief as everyone and their grandma rushed for the exit. Scattering papers and leaving dropped pens and pencils where they landed, no one wanted to stick around. It didn't seem to bother the teacher, he took the time to peer at the ringing bell before returning to his book.

She only saw real scholars attached to books like that and he was _really_ into it.

It was incredibly disconcerting how fascinated he was with whatever it was he read, his face controlled into utter concentration. Sasha shivered, grabbed up her bag and unused books, and followed the herd to safety.

No point in lingering longer than necessary- "Oh, hey there! Didn't mean to run into you, sorry!"

It was the other substitute, Mister Markes. His floppy brown hair in disarray and his emotions spread like wildfire across his face. Apparently his luck hadn't been any better, but at least he apologized for being a klutz. Somebody had to have some manners in this darn school! Though to be honest it didn't really bother Sasha, she was used to being snaked around by other people, or run over if they were in the mood for it. That was just a part of high school it's not like she was the only sufferer.

"Hey, have a good afternoon alright?" he forced a smile and continued on past.

Sasha didn't even bother to glance back before rushing off to her locker, packing the rest of her homework, and heading for the streets. It was time to go home, and after all the bickering and screeching and noise she was surely ready to take a break. Momma wouldn't be happy but she'd get over it, she always did. Hey it was good for her anyway, the therapist chick said it was healthy for her to get out and about after such a tragedy. High school must have counted for something.

It was definitely loud enough.

• • • •

Sasha thought she'd come home to a house smelling of fried food and maybe a salad if momma was up to it. But when the door clicked shut and she faced the living room, she realized that it was painfully quiet and that momma was still gone. This wasn't how she envision her evening after being a big girl and facing the music that was life moving on. This is what she got though and Sasha gritted her teeth against angry words, even if the house was empty, she felt like maybe someone would see them later.

If there was a later.

It seemed more and more of late that momma was gone when she got up and never home until after she went to bed. Staying out late after work, getting drunk, having fun and wasting her time away with Rick. It was always Ricks fault, there was never a day that passed when it wasn't Ricks fault. Everything was all wrong after Rick.

Everyday the sun rose Sasha hoped that Rick would have gone home and stayed there, choosing to never come back. Everyday she woke up to find some article of his clothing strewn about the house, telling a story of the night before. A story that Sasha didn't want to hear and was forced to stare in the face anyway. Honestly she'd be happy if he fell off a ladder and shattered his spine, in the most painful way possible so that momma would stop entertaining all these ideas about giving her a baby brother. That was probably worse than anything else and the last time momma mentioned it Sasha had erupted violently, making her opinion very well known on the matter. It was a bomb whose time was perched on a pane of glass, waiting to see where the tide would shift.

Sasha hoped it slipped and landed on Rick.

There was no point in calling out so she threw her backpack to the side, forgetting her homework in a fit of anger.

If momma was was going to be childish and stupid then she'd be the same, maybe momma would wake up. Maybe not. Sasha searched through the kitchen drawers until they rewarded her with a crisp, new fifty dollar bill. Fingering the forbidden money she ordered two large pizzas and soda to boot, every ounce of resentment and fury piled into the order as she spent funds that weren't hers. Did she care? Not really at this point. She just wanted to piss someone off, and spending money was the way to do it.

And momma wondered why she acted out.

In the time it took for the delivery man to arrive she'd gone upstairs and fished out momma's 'special' collection of dvd's. Deciding now was the time to reveal that momma wasn't as good of a liar as she thought, with every intention of using it as a weapon. On top of that she also dressed in some of momma's prized lingerie, wrapping it tight with a blue silk dressing gown and tip-toeing downstairs when the doorbell rang. She was actually kind of hungry so his timing was superb.

"Sasha Tyball?"

Definitely not the pizza man.

* * *

**Note:** a few of you apparently liked this idea, so I decided that I would try it out and see what you think. Thank you!


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